It Should Be You
by Geekery15
Summary: Summary: Gibbs returns from Mexico to find that two of his teammates had broken one of his many rules, the one rule he never wanted broken—knowing he wouldn't be able to swallow the reality of it. [ Zibbs One-Shot ]


**Title:** It Should Be You  
**Author:** Geekery15  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Gibbs returns from Mexico to find that two of his teammates had broken one of his many rules, the one rule he never wanted broken—knowing he wouldn't be able to swallow the reality of it.  
**Spoilers:** Season 4, but nothing major.  
**Feedback:** Sure, why not? I'm always hungry.  
**Disclaimer:** The Characters of NCIS do not belong to me.

* * *

When in Mexico he had been physically free to touch the world and to have the world touch him. Whatever washed ashore that caught his eye was there for the taking. Whatever skated past him on two legs, feminine legs, was his for the tasting—but instead he kept to himself and minded his repairs because his memories, all of his vivid thoughts, stayed close to him. They haunted him. They taunted him.

When she called him in complete despair, he knew she was the final pull he needed to come back. To invade their office space with his gruff-like charm, her and the rest of his elite team.

Upon arrival he appeared like a pirate, he had heard his Senior Agent refer to him as. So, after business had been taken care of on a daily basis for his first week back, he would sit away inside the empty walls of his home and he would struggle with trying to make everything fall back into place.

Things were different.

Aside from his mustache, things were different. He felt it every time she was near. He felt it in the air—it was more than her scent. Her eyes were different; still reserved and full of secrets, but now so much so that when he wanted a direct stare from her, she couldn't be successful in doing so. Her walk, it was different in that she pushed forward so that she was trying to lead the way when walking anywhere with him. Never did she fall back or brush against his shoulders by walking directly next to him. She felt entitled and while this newness from her should amuse him, it didn't. Her understanding for phrases she had constantly messed up had gotten better, and her knowledge of films had greatly improved.

Inside the office was the worst he had ever seen her. Her reservation was so strong towards him that she made him feel like he wasn't even in the room, sitting at his desk that was nearest to him.

For a month he left it alone as best as he could. He wanted nothing more than to ask her what had happened to her while he had left them all behind, but he always lost his nerve. Something about her new way of acting, speaking, and living frightened him to the point he rather wonder about her than know the truth.

The rest of his team were of no help. Abby was so embedded in her bowling tournament with her 'sister friends to spare even a second of her free time. With her work time she was so crowded with cases that she was practically working from inside her office and using up the hallway that led into her office. For the woman who begged to be left alone without a partner, McGee now served as the only member of his team that had grown used to spending more and more time down there with her. When she called for help, he arrived for her in an imaginary cape.

Ducky had gone on vacation. It was much needed, but it had come at the worst time. If anyone would have been incredibly honest with him, it would have been him. Friends to the literal end they would end up being—Gibbs has known it deep down inside whether he chose not to admit to anyone, even Ducky.

His Senior Agent was his ticket, but there was something extra peppy about the Agent that fooled around so often it was a surprise he was always at the top of his game. From his perfectly styled hair to his tailored suits there was something incredibly appealing that Gibbs was sure was very much his natural state of being, yet something a little more.

He too passed him at times. Instead of falling back and being 'on his six', he was now his twelve o'clock. He was now in charge—it was now his campfire circles that were the biggest craze.

The Marine hadn't expected anything less in the sense of Tony's boss-like attitude, but the entire point of his discomfort had stemmed from the fact that Tony was just too damn comfortable being the boss. He had everything before, except that and now...now he stood with such a powerful idea of entitlement, at times, it knocked Gibbs back momentarily.

It was time for it go. The bushy streak that sat under his nose had lived its life and now it needed to die. It was time for some of the hair on his head to meet with a pair of scissors for a few quick snips. It was time for his presence in his own element to look as it had always looked. It was time for his opinions to register with every and all reasons. It was time for his questions to be answered. It was time to get back what he put down. It was time to put everyone back in their places, gently at first, but with much force later if some chose not to get the message.

He wasn't set on being ruthless. He was just set on being _Gibbs._

Riding the elevator was something that had never felt different. His usual trips in and out of it with his sometimes steaming cup of hot, bitter and black coffee were like trips to Disneyland for him. It was his box with two steel doors he could keep shut for as long as he needed with just the push of a button. It was _his_ campfire, and he trusted it more than he trusted himself at times.

It had been after hours when he jammed the button and sent the elevator into a moment of shock. This time it's abrupt stop even rattled his insides. With no coffee in his hand, he pressed his back against the chilled metal wall and he let the sensation cool his heating mind—and he let all of the clearing he needed happen on its own.

The look he had given to her had been interesting to see from up high, on the stairs, where he had stood watching them. The closeness from him that she granted at her own desk had heightened his intrigue—but the slightest touch of her their hands that he noticed on their way to the elevator was the final piece of the puzzle he needed.

He knew even before Mexico about their constant flirting, but he also knew that he had ordered his team to follow his rules—all of them, even the one he pegged as most important since the first day she had arrived to be a member of his team. She did that—she was the reason. She was the one that made him study that single rule on a day to day basis so hard he sometimes felt he was unable to move, stiff from all the pressure of holding back.

He had wanted to get next to her. He had wanted to show her that the bond they shared since Ari was very real. He wanted to rely on her outside of the office for everything his life had lacked in so many years. It hadn't been love at first sight, nor lust, but it was trust—trust that warmed him to his very core. He craved her, he knew, even while he was in Mexico. She had been his memories. She had been his thoughts. She had been his reason for keeping to himself and to guarding his feelings. Feelings he was sure made him human, something, he was even more sure of that his team hardly thought of on a day to day basis.

He was their boss. Their boss was strong and he was direct. He stood tall like the leader of the country. He was a leader. He had everything he needed, he must have—he was sure they often thought of him.

Stepping out of the elevator now that he brought it where it destined to go, he walked to his car and sped out of the parking garage.

An hour later he found himself sitting on the side of her bed. She was ready for bed, but nowhere near ready for bed. He had seen that look long before he had arrived. He had taught about it briefly while waiting for a stop-light to change, but it was too quick to even remember.

She couldn't see his hurt. She hadn't known of his life—she wouldn't know of his life. He would be hers as much as she would be his, but knowing that she would be the one to give more in the relationship. He wanted it for what it was; someone he found interest in because of the rule. She was someone that was decent—someone that could give him more control of controlling himself. She was someone he could turn to even if it wasn't the one he wanted to rely on.

She was blonde and she screamed with authority that he knew all to well having that way about him himself, but it still wasn't her.

So when he leaned forward, he paused—looking at her and prolonging the kiss that would finally establish a new relationship, because he saw _her_ in his mind's eye and because he heard _her_ in his head, and as he stifled a painful sigh, his last thought before closing the gap had been, _'it should be you...'_


End file.
